


Dignity

by MadClairvoyant



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:59:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadClairvoyant/pseuds/MadClairvoyant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They weren't that different from each other; they sacrificed what they loved most to be something they didn't want to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Attolia Irene -- A soul for dignity

The change was bewildering. As a child, she was tall, gangly, ungraceful, scared. She had always been reserved and quiet, hiding courtiers and her brother. When she was angry, indignant at being slighted, she would slam the doors and throw a tantrum, for a child’s anger stretches only that far. She had always known that she was a mistake, and a forgotten princess, which was fine by her; she would rather live in the shadows her whole life, like an old spinster (she had always been a spiteful one), and then be sold off like goods. Of course that was not to be. After her beloved brother had died mysteriously in an accident, suddenly she was the best prize to be won, and she hated it. After being sent to her disgusting fiancé’s House for a year, she was ready. She had been weaving plots and she wove his shirts, careful to make sure that there were no loose ends. It wouldn’t do for the fabric to unravel itself, would it?

Walking into the throne room was a challenge in itself. She had never been like this before; she could almost imagine his blood dripping from her hands, try as she might to make it disappear. As the crown was carefully lowered on her head, her resolve was steeled, and the blood was gone. It didn’t matter anymore.

She swept around the halls with her stately skirts, the model of a dignified monarch. Her head was held high, and her impassive expression locked into a place, with a preternatural calmness fixed on, for the lack of a better word. Dignity was her shield, which stopped her from vomiting in revulsion as she stared into the mirror, which stopped her from imagining her bloodied hands as she ordered the punishments, which stopped her from admitting defeat as the war raged on and her country was slowly drained. Her beauty was just a façade for a lonely girl to hide behind when she realized that she had traded her very soul, to have dignity; to be a queen.


	2. Eddis Helen -- Freedom for dignity

The change was bewildering. As a child, she was a wild thing, all laughter and temper. She was a sweet girl, and she smiled a lot, especially when her little cousin dragged her off for misadventures that got their aunts screeching like banshees. When her brothers acted like preening peacocks, she would glare, and grumble, though it never quite got beyond. There as little that could anger her yet. The one thing that she loved to do was venture out in the wilderness. There was a certain freedom to it that she loved. She hated to be trapped, a bird in a gilded cage that was the palace. It was that precious, tenuous idea of freedom that it gave her, and she treasured it. 

When the sickness struck, she was little more than a child. Watching as her brothers fell ill, and then at last, that morning when Xanthe stood in the doorway, face awash with tears, she knew that her father was dead too. As the crown was placed on her head, she could hear the little click, like the door of a cage being locked, and she was trapped. 

She was no longer a forgettable princess, who could laugh as the wind whistled in her ears while galloping away, who could scream in fury at the stupidity of her older cousins, who could run off between lessons to wrestle in the mud. She was a queen, and even as she wore trousers as a last act of rebellion, she had to have dignity. Dignity was her shield, which stopped her from retching as she ordered executions, which stopped her from crying when she sent her cousins to die, which stopped her from just laying down to sleep and pretend everything was a big nightmare. Her kindness was just a façade for a lonely girl to hide behind when she realized that she had traded her freedom, to have dignity; to be a queen.


End file.
